


A Father's Love

by MerWhoLocked



Series: Detroit: Becoming Awakened [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor loves Fish, Cyberlife is a good Company, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Hank Adopts Connor, M/M, Meeting the Parents, No Angst, No Revolution Necessary, Protective Carl, Protective Hank, Protective Markus, Sumo is mentioned, cole is alive, insecure connor, not yet...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 14:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15245076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerWhoLocked/pseuds/MerWhoLocked
Summary: Connor and Markus have stared dating. Now it's time for their human fathers to finally meet, but neither Hank or Carl were aware that they both have something to lose...No angst, despite the somewhat misleading summary. All fluff.Slight AU, canon divergence. More details inside.





	A Father's Love

**Author's Note:**

> This game has completely taken over my life and become my newest obsession. I immediately started writing multiple stories for this fandom, while my current stories languish in jealousy. Connor is the absolute most adorable person ever and I love him so much!
> 
> Takes place in a slight AU where instead of becoming deviant, androids become awakened and are not hunted for what they are. No revolution necessary. Cyberlife decides to be good people instead of dicks. Connor and Markus meet and fall in love. Now it's time for their human father's to meet. 
> 
> This was actually written a few weeks ago around father's day BUT it's a little late due to the fact that life is hectic and I am horrible at updating on a consistent schedule. I do have a sequel planned for this that is about half way written. It has a lot more angst but I'm not sure when I will get around to finish editing it. This wasn't beta read, so all mistakes are my own.

Carl couldn’t help but smile as he observed his son this morning while he was serving him his usual breakfast of bacon and eggs, and a cup of black coffee that his doctor would have a fit about if he knew he was drinking. Markus wasn’t as subtle as he liked to believe, not having nearly enough practice to keep a secret of this magnitude from Carl, who had many more years of experience under his belt.

He’d let Markus keep his secret for about a week before not being able to take the anticipation anymore, knowing that the young android he’d adopted into his care (though sometimes he felt it was the other way around with how Markus took care of him nowadays) was keeping something important from him.

He’d worried at first that Markus had gotten himself into some kind of trouble, but he trusted that the boy would come to him for help if it ever got too bad. However, it didn’t take Carl long to see that he’d been misguided in his worry and was completely supportive of the change that was taking place in someone so young and new to this world like Markus was.

Love was a powerful emotion. It was amazing to see how love could change a person, could reach into the soul and make everything feel so giddy and light, as if nothing in the world could bring you down. It was infectious, liberating and beautiful to see the weight of the world lift off a person’s shoulders. And it seemed that even androids were not immune to its effects, Carl mused as Markus practically swanned around the house in a daze, completing his daily chores in a secretive silence, distracted by his own thoughts and smiling to himself when he thought no one was looking.

He recognized that look, had worn it with pride once upon a time in his younger years with his late wife, Amelia. Young love was especially powerful, something so new and exciting that every day felt like a celebration.

Markus hadn’t always been so expressive, but he’d grown so much in such a short time. He’d only been Awakened for a year now but Carl had watched over him since before, when Markus was little more than a puppet.  After his Awakening, he blossomed into a fine, responsible young man that Carl could be proud of.

With old age came the burden of wisdom and hindsight, and Carl regretted many things in his long life. Markus would never be one of them.

“Alright, out with it. I can’t take it anymore,” he said when Markus finally sat down, watching as the smile froze on his son’s face.

Markus didn’t eat—he sometimes drank those funny neon blue drinks that smelled horrendous—but they both still enjoyed the time they spent together while Carl consumed his food, talking about their daily lives and catching up.

Markus had started teaching art classes to young children at the Community Center and Carl enjoyed hearing stories about how all the kids were doing. One child in particular, a young android named Alice was opening up more and more around him, coming out of her shell. A lot of these kids, human and android, were from tragic family situations and Alice was one of those unfortunate cases. She had been abused by her human owner before she had Awakened but had thankfully been saved and adopted by Kara, once a domestic household android for Alice’s father and now her mother. Their story of Awakening was one of the sadder ones that Markus had had the privilege of hearing.

Markus looked confused and slightly panicked at Carl’s sudden declaration, “Out with what?” he asked awkwardly, playing dumb.

Carl rolled up his sleeves, exposing the intricate sleeve of tattoos that he’d gotten in his youth. They were a little bit discolored and faded with time, yet he still didn’t regret getting them like his mother swore he would when he was old and wrinkly. He liked to think they gave him a bit of flair in his old age.

“Who is this person that put such a lovely smile on your face and why haven’t you told me about them yet?” Carl said, trying to not to sound too entertained by the android’s reaction. Markus had never been a particularly good liar.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Markus tried to deny but his voice modulator gave him away, pitch rising to an awkwardly high note in embarrassment.

“I might be old Markus, but I am not senile,” Carl admonished playfully, “I know that look. You’ve met someone. So, who is it? Girl? Boy? Android? Human?” he asked and if Markus had the ability to blush, he would be doing so right now.

“His name is Connor and he’s an android,” Markus said in defeat, slumping into his seat. He knew that he’d been caught, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face at the thought of the other android that he’d been so fascinated with for the last few months. He’d been completely distracted lately, finding that even small things like, what shirt to pick out to wear for the day made him think of his boyfriend, wondering if Connor would like the color or the way it fit his frame. His sketch book could attest to the number of times that Markus thought about Connor, in so many different situations.

“And where did you meet this android named Connor?” Carl asked teasingly, “Tell me everything,”

Markus hesitated for a moment, his smile faltering long enough for Carl to realize that there was a serious story that went along with his confession, not something that he should tease him about.

“I…” Markus floundered for what to say, knowing the explanation would ultimately hurt the man who he respected like a father and had raised him like a son. It had been one of the reasons he’d kept Connor a secret from Carl for so long. And as time went by, the secret just got easier to keep to himself.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt the man who’d taught him everything.

“You can tell me anything, Markus. I had hoped you’d already know that,” Carl said reaching out and grabbing Markus’s shoulder, giving it a quick, supportive squeeze.

“I do… I just…” Markus didn’t know how to explain so he just decided to start at the beginning, “I met him at the Community Center, in an AESA group,” he admitted quietly, confidence bolstered by the love and acceptance Carl had always given him, but still so ashamed of the fact that he’d hidden it for so long.

“I see,” Carl tried to keep the disappointment from his voice, knowing how hard it must have been for Markus to admit that to him. He was upset, but not at Markus, never for something like this. He was disappointed in himself for not realizing that Markus needed more support than an old man like him could give him.

AESA, or Android Emotional Support Assistance groups, were support groups for young, usually newly Awakened androids who needed help figuring out what it meant to be alive. It gave them the ability to learn how to process their emotions in a controlled setting while they got the chance to talk with others like themselves, who were going through the same things they were. AESA groups were becoming more and more common as young androids were becoming Awakened and given the full rights that any human being was awarded.

Cyberlife hadn’t meant to create a new form of life that had the potential to be abused, but once they realized just _what_ they had accidentally created, the company had turned around and done what they could to help, instead of hunting them down and deactivating them like were something to be ashamed of. Which made all the difference in swaying the rest of the world to understand and sympathize for android equality.

New laws had been put into place to protect android’s rights and Cyberlife had stopped production to assess the situation almost immediately. They still manufactured and sold parts for repair purposes but they weren’t assembling new androids of any model. There were talks about restarting production but there were difficult moral questions to be resolved before they could move forward with that decision.

The world had grown more tolerant in the new age but anti-android groups still existed. They called the recently Awakened androids Deviants, a slur meant to imply that their newly acknowledged autonomy was only a symptom of rebellion from human superiority and control that needed to be stopped. There were opposing Android Rights Organizations who supported and fought against them but the world was still divided on if you could consider an android alive.  

Markus deflated at his response and Carl sighed, knowing he needed to explain before the boy got the wrong idea, “I am troubled that you thought you couldn’t tell me you were having a hard time but I completely understand and support your decision. I never would have stopped you from going, I hope you know that,” he said evenly.

“I know that. I just felt so… lost and overwhelmed. It wasn’t like I planned it. One of my classes ran late and on the way out I passed by the room while a group was in session. I don’t know what compelled me to go inside but they welcomed me with open arms and even said that I didn’t have to say anything if I didn’t want to, I could just listen. So I did,” Markus explained.

Carl nodded. That sounded familiar. He’d had his fair share of trouble with addiction when he was a young lad, although his had been with drugs and alcohol. He’d grown out of it by the time he’d turned thirty and started putting all his excess energy into his paintings.

“I didn’t plan on going back, but the next week I found myself at the same meeting after my class. Listening to the other’s stories of their own Awakening and their struggles has really helped me. And you haven’t been feeling well lately. I didn’t want to worry you and make it worse,” Markus said, sounding tortured by the thought, “Your doctor said that too much stress could negatively affect your recovery and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,”

Carl sighed and pushed away from the table, angling his wheelchair so that he could pull Markus down into a hug, knowing he could never stay upset for such heartbreaking reasoning. Markus didn’t like to talk about it, but the truth was that he was going to die one day, possibly someday soon with how his health had been declining in the last few years, and he worried about the idea of Markus being alone after he was gone. Hearing that he was reaching out, finding friends and even a potential life-partner that would help him through Carl’s eventual passing was a good thing.

“I am always going to worry about you, Markus,” Carl said tenderly, “That’s what it means to be a parent but I won’t always be around to protect you. I just want you to be honest with me. Whatever it is, we’ll work through it together,”

“Okay,” Markus replied morosely, tears in his eyes, “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you,”

Carl pulled away from the hug, giving Markus a confident and reassuring smile. He cupped the boy’s face in his hands and wiped the tears from his dual-toned eyes with his thumbs, “There is nothing to forgive, my son. I love you and I always will. But I still want to hear all about this man that has made you so smile like I’ve never seen before. You said his name was Connor,”

Markus ducked his head, averting his eyes sheepishly, “Yea…”

“Well go ahead, I am not getting any younger,”

“He’s an RK800 series and he works as a police investigator with his father at the Detroit Police Department,” Markus replied nervously.

“Oh?” Carl said in amusement, “And what is he like, handsome I bet?”

“He’s… god he’s just…” Markus couldn’t even begin to describe what an amazing person Connor was and how he made him feel when they were together. They hadn’t even had sex yet—not that he even knew if Connor even had the correct parts, but the idea of a celibate lifestyle didn’t bother him like it would most humans. Markus had been designed with the capability of sexual intercourse but it wasn’t like he _needed_ sex to have a happy and healthy relationship. He couldn’t deny that Connor was very physically attractive but it was more than just physical attraction for Markus, and turning off the necessary functions was an easy and painless thing to do.

No one, not even North and their brief affair had ever made him feel so... happy. Being with Connor made him feel truly alive for the first time since his Awakening.

“He’s strong-willed, compassionate and so heartbreakingly innocent, with this childlike curiosity. Yet, he always seems to know what to say to make me feel better. We can spend hours talking about nothing in particular,” he said trying to translate his feelings into proper words but was finding it difficult.

Carl hummed, “RK800. I am not familiar with that model number,” he said, wondering if he was at all similar to Markus since they were both from the RK series.

Though Carl would be the first to admit that he wasn’t an expert on the various different android models or even pretended to understand the meaning behind the different number and letter codes. He’d never really had the intention of ever owning an android. Markus had been given to him as a gift from Elijah Kamski, an old friend that used to come to every one of his art gallery openings, when he’d started struggling to take care of himself.

“He was a prototype model, the only one in use when Cyberlife shut down their assembly line and not yet put into mass production, which means he’s truly one of a kind.  He was built to aid police investigations and hostage negotiations, so he can be overly analytical at times and has a hard time understanding and deciphering sarcasm,” Markus answered. Of course, he would never admit it to Connor’s face because he knew that the other android was self-conscious about his overly robotic behavior, but Markus found his naivety to be quite adorable.

“He’s only been Awakened for a few months and he struggles sometimes to understand who he is as a person, but he’s so beautiful and smart. We spend a lot of time together after class talking one on one and he’s helped me realize so much about who I am. I find myself just wanting to spend more time with him,” Markus was aware that he was rambling and that it was all coming out so jumbled. But nothing he’d said was a lie.

Carl just continued to smile knowingly throughout his explanation, making Markus feel uncomfortable so stopped speaking, feeling embarrassed at his lack of personal experience on the subject.

“He sounds intriguing,” Carl finally responded, now knowing that he had to meet the man for himself. Markus himself was a prototype, though he’d never thought that made him special like he did with Connor.

Anyone who could make Markus this happy had already won his approval but he wanted to make sure that it wasn’t some trick, that Connor wasn’t taking advantage of his son when he was at his most vulnerable. It was easy to give him the benefit of the doubt. If Connor was going to these classes, then most likely he was feeling just as lost as Markus was. And the knowledge that he was so newly Awakened was a good sign that he was telling the truth about his intentions, but you could never be too careful when your kids were involved. The world could be a desperate and cruel place, and he wanted to protect Markus as much as he could without sheltering him from it.

“Invite him to come over on Friday, him and his father. I’d like to get to know him better,” Carl said, watching as Markus choked on air that he didn’t need to breathe.

“Oh, I don’t know… he might not have time—are you sure?” Markus asked nervously. But Carl knew how important it was that he meet Connor, knowing he meant something to Markus.

“Yes. Tell him Friday, five o’clock,” Carl said determinedly. Markus nodded and closed his eyes, making the call inside his head. He was quiet for a few minutes and then his face twitched slightly as he silently communicated with the other android, a skill that Carl sometimes envied. The call ended when Markus opened his eyes.

“He told me to tell you that he and Hank—his father— are in the middle of an important case but should be able to make it. He says he’s excited to meet you,” Markus said, feeling a whole new mix of emotions that he’d never felt together before. Dread, excitement, and anxiety, all rolled into one bundle of emotion that would have made him nauseas if he were human.

“Good,” Carl hummed and went back to eating his dinner now that they had a plan in place.  

 

* * *

 

Time seemed to go by faster than normal and before Markus was ready for it, Friday was here. The bundle of emotions hadn’t gone away, only increased as the dreaded day got closer and closer. Now, minutes before Connor was supposed to arrive, Markus was a jumble of anxiety. He was having a hard time calming himself down, breathing heavily and pacing back and forth in a restless fashion.

The irony of it was that he didn’t need to breathe, not to survive anyway, but he somehow felt like he _couldn’t_ catch his breath. He did have an artificial respiratory system that helped cool down his biocomponents when his temperature spiked, either when he was feeling excess internal stress or from outside influences. Breathing also helped circulate the thirium that regulated his biocomponents, much like a human heart would, but he could shut it down when necessary. Right now, it felt like an impossible endeavor.  

They were both waiting in the front foyer and Markus had doubled checked his appearance in the mirror twice in the last ten minutes, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from his shirt. He had a hard time picking out outfit for this evening, having changed at least twice since this morning and had in the end gone with something causal, a loose olive-green cotton-knit and black jeans that went well with his darker skin tone—or so he’d been told.

“You need to relax, Markus,” Carl said, torn between being amused and worried about his son’s mental state. He was sitting a few feet away in his wheelchair, watching the android fidget nervously, “I’m not going to bite. I just simply want to get to know him better,”

“I know. I just want everything to be perfect,” Markus replied. Carl wasn’t a heavy-handed or violent person—and Connor could defend himself, especially against a frail human like Carl— but he was still so worried that he might unintentionally say something that would scare Connor away. Their relationship was still so new and fragile, and he was worried that even the slightest stressor could break it. They’d known each other for months through AESA but they’d only been in a romantic relationship for a few weeks.

For his part, Carl had no intentions of giving Connor the shovel talk, but he also wanted the other android to understand just how important Markus was and that he deserved someone who was going to take care of him.

The doorbell interrupted whatever Carl was going to say next and without much prompting, Markus opened the door to reveal a good-looking, pale android with dark brown hair that was coifed at the top. He had adorably round cheeks and striking soulful brown eyes that revealed much more emotion than then his facial expression ever would.

Connor was wearing an outfit very similar to his Cyberlife uniform, a white button up shirt and black skinny tie, nondescript grey jacket and slacks. He didn’t look like a cop at first glance, maybe a doe-eyed business man or schoolteacher. He was lean and scrawny looking, 90lbs soaking wet, but there was an inner strength that he carried with him that wasn’t immediately apparent. But maybe the most surprising thing about him was the LED still affixed on the side of his forehead.

Most androids wanted to get rid of their LEDs after they Awakened, knowing that it visibly identified them as androids and provided a feedback for their mental processes. There were some who kept it for their own personal reasons but Carl hadn’t seen many androids walking around with their LED still intact. It was becoming quite the statement, a symbolic step towards independence to tear it out. Markus had chosen to remove his only hours after his Awakening, self-aware enough to realize that it made him different.

Standing next to Connor was a scruffy looking older man, a human maybe only ten to fifteen years Carl’s junior, wearing a causal Hawaiian print shirt and tattered green jacket. He had medium length grey hair and a beard that was disheveled, needing a trim. He was frowning at them both suspiciously, giving off an air of indifferent disdain.

Markus had warned him ahead of time that Hank was a particularly surly human, who pretended not to care for anything but was extremely protective of his children. Carl was amused by Hank’s attempts to intimidate him, flashing him a brief glimpse of his gun and badge that was clipped to his waistband and scowling at everyone who got too close to Connor, like a protective mama bear protecting her cub. It didn’t take long for Carl to realize that a part of Markus’s nervousness was due to the fact that he wanted to make a good impression on Hank, who was important to Connor.

“Hello Mr. Manfred, my name is Connor and this is my father, Lt. Hank Anderson,” the android introduced them politely, trying to sound as pleasant as possible as he reached out hand for Carl to shake, an important human custom to perform when meeting someone for the first time, “Markus has told me a lot about you. I am delighted to make your acquaintance.”

“You too, son,” Carl said taking the proffered hand and giving it a gracious shake, rolling backwards to give them room to enter, “Please come in. Markus, will you take their coats? And please call me Carl. Only my investors are allowed to call me Mr. Manfred. Gives them a bit of humility.”

Hank grunted his thanks when Markus took his jacket, turning to causally take a look around the place that must have cost more than twice his yearly salary, wondering how much a bum he must look in comparison. When Markus turned to take Connor’s jacket, he paused briefly and then reached his arm out shyly in invitation.

Connor didn’t hesitate, reaching out to meet him half way. For brief moment they just stood together, touching each other’s forearms, synthetic skin melding away to expose the white polymer underneath. Their fingertips lit up as they connected to each other in a way that humans could never really understand or replicate.

Connor’s face relaxed into something so unbearably soft, his lips pulling up into the smallest of boyish smiles, that it made Carl want to protect him at all costs. It was a sudden urge that took him by surprise and then made him laugh at the absurdity of his plans to pressure Connor about his intentions, knowing he’d gotten a little foolish in his own age. Connor was staring at Markus as if he’d found a treasure that he couldn’t bear to live without, the same feeling that Amelia had given him.

Hank purposefully cleared his throat when the contact went on for just a little too long in mixed company, appearing as if they’d gotten lost in each other and forgetting that there were other people in the room. The two of them jerked apart at the unexpected sound as if they had been burned, looking like they’d been caught doing something intimate, which for all they knew could have been possible.

“Come on you two lovebirds,” Hank said with a smirk, “Save it for the bedroom,”

Connor look mortified and immediately wanted to apologize for his behavior but Carl was having too much fun to complain and wouldn’t even hear of it.

“Wait, you’re Carl Manfred? The famous painter?” Hank asked, finally putting together his name with the pieces of art that were hanging in their front foyer.

“Yes, that’s me,” Carl said, turning to look at the grizzled, hard-broiled detective that Markus had described. He could admit that the man made an imposing figure but Carl was at the age that he’d stopped caring what people thought about him and had zero desire to impress anyone.

“I didn’t think we were going to meet a celebrity tonight,” Hank commented sharply, with just a little too much bite in his words to be considered civil. 

Connor shifted to give him a pleading glance, which made Hank deflate and concede in trying not to be purposeful antagonistic, “My wife loved your work. She used part of our life savings one year to buy one of your paintings and it’s still hanging over my fireplace. Connor must have realized but never mentioned,” he added, sounding disgruntled.

He had a love-hate relationship with that painting. His wife had adored it and that made it easy to leave it hanging up to remember her by, but it also was one of the ugliest pieces of shit that he ever had the displeasure of buying and often thought about burning it. Or selling it and getting his damn money back.

“Thank you,” Carl replied graciously, “I haven’t had much energy to paint after I got sick but your welcome to tour my studio,”

Hank swiftly declined his offer but Carl didn’t take it personally, knowing that art—especially the kind of abstract concepts he liked to create—was subjective and not everyone viewed it the same way. 

“I didn’t think it was pertinent information to pass along, Hank. I am sorry if I deceived you, that was not my intention,” Connor added with a detached expression on his face, but there was a hint of something light and teasing about the way he said it, as if he was being purposely mischievous.

“Why you cheeky little…” Hank trailed off, reaching up to ruffle Connor’s perfect little coif affectionately. Carl had hard time hiding his amusement and noticed that Markus was still staring at Connor with the same lovesick expression on his face.

He showed them into the main sitting room, where Connor and Markus sat together on one of the red couches at a respectful difference. Hank eyed them critically as he sat on the couch opposite of them and Carl angled his chair off to the side so that he had a view of them all.

“Would you like a drink, Hank?” Carl asked politely, “I prefer scotch myself but I think I have some decent whiskey on tap as well,”

Hank looked tempted, almost eerily so, but eventually declined, “No, thank you. I’m trying to cut back,”

Seeing the approval on Connor’s face made Hank a little embarrassed but also immensely proud of himself. He was trying to be better for his kids. After his wife died in a tragic car accident and Cole left for college, the days had just seemed a little more empty with only his dog for company. He’d stopped trying to pretend that he wasn’t a functioning alcoholic, drowning himself at Jimmy’s Bar every night or crawling into a bottle of Jack at home if he wasn’t feeling sociable. But then Connor had come along, nagging him about his health and constantly worrying about him.

He’d been against partnering up with an android at first, fighting Fowler tooth and nail, claiming he was better as a lone wolf anyway since no one wanted to be his partner anymore. After grudgingly accepting the inevitable, he did everything in his power to push the nosy bastard away but the damn thing had stuck to him like glue. Partnering with Connor often felt like babysitting since the kid seemed to think being bionic made him some kind of superman, with no sense of self-preservation instincts and a definite trouble-magnet. But somehow the unthinkable had happened. Without even realizing it, Connor had wormed his way into Hank’s curmudgeoned old heart and was there to stay.

Hank had been there the day that Connor had Awakened and after that horrifying shitshow, he’d come to realize that the android had become like a second son to him. It had also made him realize how much damage he’d done to his relationship with Cole, who didn’t want to be around his father when he got drunk and belligerent. He’d been a little surprised at first how well Connor and Cole got along with each other, forming a brotherly bond almost instantly after he’d declared his intention of adopting Connor into the family.

Though it really shouldn’t have been a surprise. Cole had always wanted a younger brother and Connor liked having someone his own age to bond with. They had immediately ganged up on him to get him sober, getting him admitted to a rebab program for cops and double-teamed him into going to the AA meetings. He was officially one month sober and even had the chip to prove it.

“That is very admirable of you. I have other options if you would like, soda or water perhaps?” Carl replied tactfully. Seeing both of their reactions, Carl knew there must be more to the story but it would have been rude to inquire about such a personal matter during their first meeting. As a show of support, Carl also decided against drinking anything stronger than soda this evening.

“No, I’m fine. Connor’s been on this health kick lately and soda is not on the _approved_ list,” Hank said, grumpily. Alcohol he could understand but touch a man’s junk food and he had the right to be upset. His kitchen had never been so full of leafy greens since before his wife had died and if he had to drink one more of those disgusting protein shakes, he was going to shoot someone.

“Eating a healthy and balanced diet has been shown to extend a human’s life expectancy by 60%, especially for humans over the age of 40. It is also true that excessive alcohol consumption is hazardous to an organic body and should be consumed at a moderate rate,” Connor replied stoically. His manner of speech was still slightly robotic but there was a vein of emotion underneath that was completely human.

“I keep telling Carl the same thing but he doesn’t listen to me,” Markus said, smiling at the other android like he’d quoted Aristotle, “You’ll have to tell me your secret on how you make Hank listen to you,”

“I’m old and at the point in my life that I should be able to eat and drink whatever I want without any judgement,” Carl said mulishly. He couldn’t help but notice how Connor spared him a worried glance and felt his affection for the boy grow.

“Your doctor would disagree with you,” Markus said, eyes sparkling in mirth, “He suggested cutting bacon and other red meats out of your diet,”

“Better you than me,” Hank muttered, sounding horrified by the thought.  

“I have considered the same possibility. Red meat is high in protein, vitamins, minerals and anti-oxidants but not all red meat is considered healthy for you, especially in large quantities. Bacon contains a high content of saturated fat and sodium, which raises your cholesterol and puts you at risk for heart disease,” Connor helpfully supplied.

Hank and Carl shared a look of heated commiseration, both knowing how stubborn their android sons could be and the terrifying possibility that they were not going to be able to enjoy bacon in the near future.

“Enough about me, please I’d like to know more about you, Connor,” Carl said, desperately wanting to change the subject, hoping that Markus would be so smitten that he’d forget about this whole conversation. Maybe Connor was going to be a bad influence on him after all.

“What would you like to know?” Connor turned to look directly at Carl when he spoke. He was easy to distract, already shifting his attention away from the topic at hand.

“Anything you’d like. Whatever you feel comfortable telling me.” Carl smiled warmly.

“I am an RK800 model series, serial number 313 248 317-51, designation Connor. I was programmed to—”

“I think he means something a little more personal, kid,” Hank interrupted, nudging him to get his attention, shaking his head ruefully.

“Oh, I see… I-I am not sure what to say,” Connor’s LED flickered yellow as he struggled for an answer, his internal stress rising to 28%, though no one else had the ability of knowing that. Even Markus, who had similar preconstructive abilities, didn’t have some of the newer technological features that Connor had been programmed with.

Connor was good at answering direct personal questions but coming up with answer to an opened-ended question with no direction like that was still a challenge for him. Markus reached over and took his hand, squeezing it supportively and Carl frowned, a little heartbroken to see Connor so confused at such a simple request, “Do you like being a police detective?”

“Yes, most of my functions are suited for this type work so I am very efficient at my job, but beyond that I do find myself enjoying the day to day procedures. It is rewarding trying to discover motives behind criminal behavior and following forensic evidence to track down suspects. Although Hank has voiced his displeasure of using my oral processors to exam unknown fluids at the scene, I do have the capability of getting a chemical analysis report in real time, rather than waiting for the forensic lab to process the samples. It helps solve cases 49% faster,” Connor replied proudly, his LED reverting back to a solid blue.

“You don’t just go sticking evidence in your mouth, it’s unsanitary and gross,” Hank added in his defense, with a sour look on his face.

Connor smirked. His eyes were sparkling with emotion, as if this was a familiar argument they liked to rehash just for the fun of it, “I do not have the ability to taste or catch communicable diseases that humans can. Your assessment is flawed for an android and therefore you cannot use same parameters that you would for yourself.”

Carl was happy to see Connor’s earlier stress had faded and the worried crease on Markus’s forehead had disappeared. He was still holding onto Connor’s hand, but neither of them appeared to notice.

“You said you were working on a big case recently?” Markus asked curiously.

“Yes, it was initially an arson case but the last two buildings that were burned had victims inside, so it was transferred over to our department. We were able to apprehend the suspect yesterday. While he was difficult to catch, it was not so difficult to get a confession from him. He seemed eager to get caught and tell everyone why he did it,” Connor said, still unsure of the bizarre complexity of emotions that desired the death of others and destruction of personal property.

He was programmed to notice patterns in psychological behavior, to be able to analyze, reconstruct, predict and manipulate a human’s or android’s reactions, but the emotion behind their motivations was still a puzzle to him. Even Hank was unsure about it, so Connor didn’t know if it was something he should ever want to understand. When he’d asked the older detective for clarification, the man had gotten a dark look on his face and told him that there were some emotions that were better left unfelt.

“Yes, some people are like that. They want recognition so bad that would do anything to get it. I have seen many artists with the same ambition over the years,” Carl said in agreement, looking troubled.

Connor’s LED flickered yellow inquisitively, looking curious at Carl’s wheelchair. Markus had told him about the fact that his father couldn’t walk but never explained the events that had caused it.

“How did you lose the use of your legs?” Connor’s question was so abrupt and out-of-the-blue, that Hank choked on an inhale of air and even Markus appeared startled. Carl was silent, having not expected such a frank personal question, but he wasn’t upset about it. Far from it. 

“That’s not usually something you ask in polite company when you first meet, Connor,” Hank reminded him cautiously.

Connor had a tendency to be appallingly blunt when interviewing witnesses and suspects, although not because he meant anything insulting by it, more along the lines of he didn’t understand crucial social cues as well as a human would have, apparent ‘social modules’ be damned. Hank had to wonder if the engineers at Cyberlife weren’t all emotionless robots themselves with how bad they fucked that up.

“Oh?” Connor looked confused again, wondering if his social module was malfunctioning. Perhaps he should run a self-diagnostic.

Although he was programmed to be able to easily integrate with humans and adapt to work as a team, he knew from his first couple attempts at small-talk with Hank that it wasn’t as easy as he first predicted, though he still tried his hardest to fit in.

“I apologize. I meant no disrespect. I just assumed we were exchanging information to get familiar with each other because of my romantic relationship with your son,” Connor replied, looking over at Markus for some direction, his LED flashing yellow, then red and then back to blue in rapid succession.

Carl chuckled, “Don’t worry about it, Connor. I prefer blunt tenacity than insincere platitudes. I get enough of that from gallery owners. Smoozers, the lot of them,” he assured, “It was a car accident. Back then, I was young and reckless. Forgot to put on my seatbelt and went through the windshield of my car. I was lucky to have survived the head injury but a piece of glass severed a section of my spinal cord, and in those days once those nerves died, there was nothing anyone could do to bring them back. I’ve adapted to life in a wheelchair well enough but my art suffered for many years,”

 “That does explain the gap in your career from 2012 to 2038,” Connor looked pleased, as if he’d solved a particularly hard puzzle that had been bothering him for some time. Carl didn’t know if he should be flattered that Connor took the time to look him up—an easy thing to do when you had police resources— or worried. He’d been young at the time. It had been right after Leo was born, some twenty odd years ago, when he was dumb enough to believe that he was invincible and the car accident had been a brutal reminder of how fragile the human body really was.

 “What about outside of work? What do you like to do?” Carl prompted him again with another question. Loosing his legs was a morbidly depressing subject so he changed it.

Connor took a second to think, his LED flickering yellow for a few seconds, quick enough that if you weren’t paying attention, you might not have even noticed.

“I like walking Sumo—our dog. I like animals and I think that I understand them better than I understand humans. I recently convinced Hank to get a fish tank for my room,” Connor said, thinking of his small tank back home that had three little goldfish inside. He’d yet to name them, though he wasn’t as concerned about the fact that they didn’t have names as Hank was.

“I also like watching basketball games with Hank, although I don’t understand why he likes to yell at the screen so much. It does not affect the gameplay. I like listening to music. I have decided that I am not fond of the heavy metal that Hank likes to play in the car, even though I told him that I did in the beginning to gain his trust. It is difficult to understand and has an unpleasant melody, despite the dynamic energy. The jazz records he has at home are very pleasant, though.” Connor continued, thoughtfully. 

“In that case, you might like the opera. It has a lot of energy but with a dramatic composition, in which all parts are sung to orchestral accompaniment,” Carl replied, intrigued at Connor’s response.

“In many ways it’s defined human culture since the beginning of our civilization, and to some it offers a reflection of who we are, how we relate to others, and what it means, collectively and individually, to be human. It won’t have the direct answers you are looking for but it can often help us see, feel and hear the world differently, to remind us about being in touch with the things beneath the surface, the things that really matter like love, despair, loneliness, fear, hope, jealousy; something that even humans can struggle to understand,” he added.

Connor looked fascinated at the prospect but from what Carl could gather, the boy was remarkably curious about everything the world had to offer and had no reservations about trying something new at least once. Markus on the other hand was more sensible and cautious. He tolerated the opera for Carl’s sake but wouldn’t say that he actually enjoyed it. In turn, Carl didn’t like making him sit through it when he knew he didn’t like it, but maybe Connor could learn to appreciate it. It would be a good way for them to bond.  

For many years Carl had subscribed for season tickets to the Detroit Opera House but ever since he’d gotten sick, he hadn’t been able to use them as much as he would have liked. It would be easy to procure a few tickets for them to go, but he would save that offer for another time.

 “That does sound fascinating. What do you think, Hank?” asked, glancing at the man to see how his interest would be received. Carl had to bite back a grin at the dirty glare that Hank sent him. It felt good getting back at the surly man for his earlier behavior, and he was an old man who had to take his shots where he could get them.

 “Don’t look at me, kid. I can’t stand that stuff,” Hank scoffed, “If I wanted to listen to old men and women screeching for a couple hours, I could go watch reality TV. It would be just as entertaining to watch and you’d be better off since you wouldn’t have to dress up in a penguin suit.”

Connor was disappointed, Carl could tell, but the young android didn’t let it show on his face, internalizing his feelings. Markus looked distinctively unhappy, though it wasn’t directed towards Hank like Carl might have suspected, but aimless and uncurable.

Since this was his first-time meeting Connor, he could only speculate, but he was sure it had something to do with the kid’s dejected reaction. He got the feeling that Connor didn’t ask for much and wasn’t used to feeling like his desires mattered, something he was sure was upsetting to Markus, who’d been programmed to be a caretaker first and foremost.

There were many times he wished that he had access to Markus’s thoughts like an android could, wanting to know what was wrong and how he could help fix it. But he didn’t have to worry for long. Markus’s distress must have leaked through his connection to Connor, who turned to look at him worriedly, and there was a wordless communication between them.

Carl felt like they were intruding on something private and figured it was best to give them some time alone to talk. He subtly suggested that Markus to give Connor a tour of the house and watched them both leave, heading towards the studio first, leaving the door open. They only spent a few minutes in there and then moved upstairs, where they couldn’t be overheard as easily. Carl and Hank could see them up on the balcony, quietly talking to each other. Connor was hunched into himself, with a lost expression on his face and Markus had his arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders, standing close to him.

Hank looked guilty, having realized that it was his comment that had caused this mess.

“I sometimes forget how sensitive the kid is and usually end up putting my foot in my mouth more often than not when it comes to him. I don’t exactly have the greatest track record when it comes to parenting but I’m trying my hardest not to screw it up again,” he said, staring up at the pair with pained eyes. His face drooped in exhaustion and he appeared like he’d aged ten years in just a few seconds.

Carl didn’t say anything, sensing that Hank had more to say.

“I’m glad they met. Markus seems to be good for him,” Hank continued in a weary tone, “Connor was struggling for a while after his Awakening and I didn’t know how to help him. There’s no manual on how to parent your android son, as your probably aware. He was Awakened on the job during one of our more brutal cases and it left him a little scarred,”

Hank let out a shaky exhale, running a hand through his grey hair, “I pushed him into going to that AESA group, figuring it couldn’t hurt. He resisted at first, trying to pretend that he was fine dealing with it by himself but we could all see that he was stressed, showing signs of PTSD. One night, I just put him in the car and drove him there myself, and it seemed to help. He was calmer, more focused and open about his feelings,”

“Then one day he came home, and for the first time since I’ve known him, he smiled. And not just the little sarcastic grins that I’m used to seeing but this big megawatt smile. I couldn’t believe it. When he told me about Markus, I knew that this was more than just infatuation. They were in love and nothing I said would change that, so I realized that I was just going to have to accept it. It wasn’t easy, mind you. Connor is my youngest and more vulnerable than my other son ever was. And it makes me crazy to think that someone would want to hurt him,” he said fervently.

Carl shares the sentiment, knowing he felt the exact same way about Markus. He had no right to judge Hank. No parent was perfect, they all made mistakes, some more than most. He himself, regretted how easily he let his relationship with Leo get so bad and—in the beginning—had clung to Markus as a sort of redemption. But that wasn’t fair to either of them.

So he tried to make it better, but every attempt to reconcile his relationship with his human son had been spit back in his face and it didn’t take him long for him to realize that the kid only wanted one thing from him. Money to feed his addiction. Even though it was a difficult decision to make, Carl was forced to cut him off financially and he hadn’t heard from Leo in the six months since.

He looked back up to see that Connor and Markus had moved closer into each other’s arms, leisurely kissing. It was nothing too graphic, just a slow and sweet kiss, filled with affection and intimacy rather than rushed desire. It went on for a few minutes and then Hank laughed.

“They do realize that we can see them, right?” he asked and Carl chuckled in response.

“Probably not,”

Hank continued to watch them with a curious look.

“How do you think they—” he started and then cut himself off with a shudder, looking away, “Nope, never mind. I don’t wanna know any more about my son’s sex life,”

Carl couldn’t lie to himself and say that he’d never thought about how androids had sex. He knew it couldn’t be too much different than a human, knowing that Markus had similar looking genitals to a standard human male, though not all androids had them. In fact, most models were completely androgynous. But all that was before he knew about Markus and Connor’s budding relationship, making it a mere scientific curiosity. Now it just seemed invasive to think about.

He hummed, “It’s always good to keep a little mystery in the world, now and then,”

“Ain’t that the truth,”

Carl didn’t know how he’d expected this night to go but it hadn’t been a complete disaster, a little bump here and there. There were still some kinks to work out but he wasn’t so worried about Markus anymore, sure that Connor was the right android for him.

North had been a sweet girl, passionate and fiery when it counted but Markus ultimately needed someone to take care of, a need that was programmed into his very code. He needed someone who would match his sensibility, yet still challenge him to be more than his programing mandated.

From what Markus had told him, North had been though some tough times as a pleasure android, working at Eden Club for some scumbag humans, and that it had scarred her bad enough that she had a hard time letting someone take care of her. This caused stress on their relationship, and what ultimately ended up being their downfall. Markus had felt guilty, like he wasn’t doing enough to help her and North had felt like she was letting Markus down for not being able to compromise on the matter.

Carl didn’t think Markus would have this problem with Connor, who wasn’t as jaded or bitter, and was eager to please everyone. He supposed that only time would tell if they would make it as a couple but he was looking forward to watching the whole thing unfold.

“Life is funny sometimes,” Hank said with a smile, feeling like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He’d already given Markus the shovel talk and the kid had passed the test with flying colors. He could let his guard down and know that Connor was going to be okay.

“Would you like to order some food in? I am famished and the boys look like their going to be occupied for a while,” Carl said to Hank with a smile on his face.

“I would love some food. We just left the precinct to come over and hadn’t had a chance to stop and get anything. Do you think we can order breakfast this time of night? Might want to take all the chances we can get to eat bacon now that I’m going to have two people nagging me about my health,” Hank said with a grumpy expression but Carl understood him well enough to see that it was only a front.

“Oh definitely. I’ll see what I can find,” Carl responded favorably, rolling towards the kitchen where he had some contraband takeout menus hidden away.

It was the start of a beautiful friendship.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read my story!! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think.


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